Justice for the Heart
by ZenWriterZero
Summary: After Keeper Marethari's death, Merrill receives comfort from an unlikely source.


Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or anything associated with Bioware. Despite the overall disappointment that was Dragon Age 2 it did have some fun points and great character interaction. You know that point in the story (and spoiler alert here folks read on if you dare) at the end after Anders blows up the chantry and Merril doesn't want him to die? I came up with this little story to explain how they may have patched things up with each other. Takes place shortly after the death of the Keeper. As always please read, review and enjoy! : )

Justice for the heart.

The Elven district of Kirkwall wasn't quite as bad as Dark Town was but by any decent standard it was still pretty bad. As Anders walked toward the house of a certain Elvish malificar (or former malificar he hoped) he counted himself grateful that he hadn't been accosted by any thugs or thieves tonight. He was having a hard enough time containing Justice as it was without lawbreakers attacking him.

Even now he could hear the spirit chastising him for this misplaced effort he wanted to make tonight. The elvish witch had made her choices, they were the wrong choices and now she should be left to suffer for them. Or else have the life drained from her just as the Keeper of the Dalish had had hers drained from her.

And for the millionth time Anders kindly told this increasingly vengeful side of him to sod off though he was getting ever more weary of this struggle between himself and the spirit that was also a significant part of himself. More and more often nowadays he felt himself becoming consumed by vengeance. And at nights he wondered just how long until Anders was no longer Anders but someone else? And should that moment come will he even be able to tell?

He shook himself out of this line of thought before he could dwell on it more and soon enough found himself at the door to Merril's small…house.

Taking a deep breath he raised his fist and knocked on the door a few times. For a few moments he heard nothing and was about to knock again when he heard something shuffle inside and then with a creak the door opened partially.

From what Ander's could see of the young elf it was painfully evident that she had been crying her heart out for quite a long time. But even in grief she still hadn't forgotten to bring her mages staff to the door. Good, she wasn't quite as naïve as before.

She stared at Anders for a second before asking. "What do you want?"

In response, Anders held up a bottle he was holding. "Can I come in? I brought wine."

She continued to stare at him for a moment almost as if she was expecting him to attack her but then slowly she opened the door and went to grab some goblets. Anders closed the door behind him and walked in. Merril's house may not have exactly been much but it somehow now had a bit of a more…homey feeling.

He also noticed shards of broken glass on the floor from where her cursed mirror once hung. His eyes widened at this, that mirror had been an obsession of Merril's for as long as she had known her. To have broken it…

Merril returned with two goblets and handed one to Anders before sitting down. Anders poured the wine for both of them in silence before joining her at the small table. In unison they took a sip and they both spat it back out as soon as it touched their tongues.

"Ugh! Damn you Isabela. She's the one who suggested this wine. The woman must be taste impaired. Which would explain a few things."

Normally Merril might have laughed at that or made some sort of naïve inquiry but instead she just set her goblet down with a sigh.

"Why are you here Anders? If you've come to make me feel worse I don't think that's possible."

With another deep breath Anders set aside the foul tasting wine.

"I came here because I wanted to say… I'm sorry."

Merril let out a bitter snort. "What for? You were right all along. You and Hawke."

Ander's shook his head. "No, I can't say I'm sorry for the things I've said. I'm not that much of a hypocrite. But I wanted to say I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry that…"

For a moment, Anders faltered not entirely sure how to say this. Then he closed his eyes and continued. "I'm sorry, that you had to learn this lesson in the most painful way possible. That you had to lose someone you love. I'm… sorry."

Merril looked almost shocked at this but the look was quickly replaced by her sorrowful apathy.

"Is that what all this was? Just some sort of lesson?" She almost spat out. She took a deep breath before continuing to speak. "Thank you, but again you've nothing to apologize for. It was all my fault…every last bit of it. And I was too stupid to see it."

"Maybe so, but something I've learned in life, is that there are some forces in this world that we can make plans to use, go over these plans at every last detail, take every possible precaution and still those forces will find a way to hurt us in the worst possible manner. No matter how clever or careful we are. And believe me, I know a little something about that myself."

"Really?" She sounded doubtful.

"Do you really think I wanted to become what I am now? An abnormal abomination barely in control of himself some days? Of course not, I wanted to be something far better I wanted to be an instrument of justice, a beacon of hope, an inspiration to others. I wanted to be like…"

He trailed off, remembering a time that felt so long ago. Fighting with the wardens, fighting with…

"I wanted to be like the warden commander of Ferelden."

"Mahariel?"

Anders nodded. "Yes, the legendary commander of the grey Zethalis Mahariel. Hero of Ferelden and the finest man I've ever known."

Merril cocked her head. "What was he like? As a warden I mean."

"Let me tell you a story, you've heard of course about how he saved the city of Amaranthine right?"

"Of course. Mahariel's exploits are now the stuff of legend among my people. He's a hero to us all."

"That city should not have able to be saved," Anders stated. "Darkspawn had completely overrun the city, all the soldiers were routed and in some places the city was literally crumbling under the assault. And for all that, Zethalis still refused to give up on the city." He paused for a moment, lost in his recollection.

"Instead he faced down an entire horde of darkspawn with no one except his little rag tag group of comrades that he had managed to cobble together and somehow forge into an excellent fighting force. And for him, that was all he really needed as he dived into the hordes moving faster than the eye could see. And I swear to this day that his blades, Starfang and Vigilance, managed to cut down darkspawn three at a time in one swing each. He was…a force of nature on the battlefield. Any who saw him there couldn't help but feel that there was a chance to win, no matter what the odds were. Those who fought with him idolized him." Ander's took another breath. "And those who served under him, loved him."

"He was a friend and confidant to us all as well as our leader. Always willing to listen and hear you out. I swear the man could get a street urchin to follow him into the heart of the Black City and the most horrid depths of the Deep Roads themselves."

Anders lost himself in recollection for a moment longer, wishing for those simpler days again before bringing himself back to the present.

"That, is what I wanted to be when I merged with Justice. A hero, not what I am today."

Merril seemed shocked for a moment. "I had no idea you thought so highly of Mahariel."

"I take it he wasn't as inspiring when you knew him?"

"He was friendly and wise in his own way. Ha! He was best known for not being able to hit even the side of a castle with a bow. But to make up for that he became one of the best swordsman's among our people. Zethalis Whiteblaze they called him because when he moved it was like a white fire rushing though his opponents."

"Because of that white hair he had no doubt," Anders grinned. "By the Maker I used to give him so much grief about having so much stress in his life it must have been what turned his hair that color. He was really born with white hair though?"

"Indeed," Merril smiled. "Some of my tribe used to make fun of him for it too. That made him so mad when he was a child. He used to get in fights over it. He stopped though when he learned that his mother also had hair like his."  
"He never knew his parents?" Ander asked.

"No, they both died when he was very young. His father was killed and his mother wandered into the woods shortly after and never returned."

They both were silent for a moment.

"I never knew that about him," Anders said softly.

"I think there are very few that he would share that knowledge with. He wasn't one to really talk about his own pain. I'd hoped that he would have found someone to confide in eventually."

Recalling another memory from his time with the wardens, Anders let out a chuckle. "I think he did. One time I asked him if he had anyone special and he got the most sickeningly lovey dovey face I've ever seen on a person and mentioned that he was head over heels for a beautiful red haired Orlesian bard. By Andraste I swear the man could talk about her for hours with that same dopey smile on his face."

"So it was true then? I'd heard that he fell in love with a human woman. I wasn't really sure whether to believe that or not."

Anders raised an eyebrow. "You don't approve?"

"Hmm? Oh no, no it's not that," Merril quickly replied. "It's just that…well Mahariel, while he never really hated humans he didn't exactly have any love for them either. Not that there's anything wrong about an elf falling in love with a human or that, well…"

"I understand," Anders cut in before Merril could go into one of her rambles. " Truth be told I was more surprised that she was Orlesian more than anything else. Orlesian women can be rather strange at times from what I've heard. Then again I suppose that makes them the same as women everywhere."

"That's not true at all. Women aren't strange at all. It's you men who are the strange ones."

"Oh really? How do you explain Isabela then?"

"That's not a fair question," Merril complained. "Isabela would be still be a bit strange even if she were a man."

Anders burst out laughing. "Isabela as a man? Maker's breath could you imagine what that would be like?"

"Not really. But I suspect she would still be rather beautiful even if she were a man."

"I can believe that. And I bet she wouldn't be able to keep her hands off of you."

Merril blushed deep red, "uh, I uh well ummm,"

Anders couldn't hold back his laugh much to her indignation. "Stop that! Its not funny!"

"Oh yes it is! It really is hahahaha!"

After a moment even Merril joined in on the laughter for nothing else than the absurdity of Isabela as a man. Eventually, their laughter finally died down to mere chuckles. "Oh by Andraste, I haven't laughed like that in years thank you."

"You're welcome," Merril replied cheerfully.

Ander's didn't want to ruin the good mood that had just been created but he had to ask. "What will you do now?"

The former Keeper's apprentice was silent for a few minutes.

"I'm not sure," she admitted finally. "Hawke said to do what I wanted but that's just it, I don't know what I want to do. I'm afraid that if I choose to do something, something horrible will happen again."

She took a deep breath and looked at Anders with conviction in her eyes.

"But I'm done with that damn mirror and I think it would be best if I were done with blood magic too. Its brought nothing but pain."

Anders nodded.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it."

They were both silent again but it wasn't a completely awkward silence.

"I should probably go, Maker knows that Hawke and Isabela probably caught something from their usual get together at the Blooming Rose."

He stood up and approached the door.

"Wait…"

Anders turned back to her.

"Did you mean it when you said the world was poorer for having me in it instead of her?"

_IT IS AN INJUSTICE THAT YOU STILL DRAW BREATH WHILE YOUR KEEPER SACRIFICED HER VERY SOUL TO KEEP SAFE SOMEONE SO UNWORTHY OF LIFE! I WILL SLAY YOU!_

Anders had to draw upon his many reserves of determination and focus in order to suppress Vengeance. He would not kill Merril, not while there was still a chance for her.

He looked into her eyes sadly.

"Yes, I did mean that."

She sagged defeated.

"I know. You're right about that too no doubt."

Anders opened the door.

"But maybe in the future, if you work hard enough and in the right way, you'll be able to balance out the scales just a bit. Perhaps someday, you will be worthy of your keeper's sacrifice."

With that he stepped out into the Kirkwall night.

As he walked back to his clinic in Darktown, he hoped to whatever spirits or Maker that still looked out over the world that Merril could be saved, that he had done enough. Because after everything that had happened the girl still had a chance to live her life. A chance to change for the better.

Unlike himself, who had no such chance.

The fires of Vengeance glowed in his eyes as he was surrounded by gang members all brandishing weapons.

His own chance had been lost long ago.


End file.
